Page 10

I smile at Sophie over breakfast the next morning. Elena is downstairs, seeing the museum, so it's just the two of us in the dining room. "You and Luc seemed to be having a lot of fun last night."

Sophie blushes crimson but shrugs and says nonchalantly. “Yeah, he was cool, I guess.”

“What did the two of you do?”

She blushes further. “I don’t know. Talked and stuff.”

“What did you talk about?”

She rolls her eyes. “We talked about how we were going to get married and have tons of kids and kiss each other all the time. Is that what you want to hear?”

“Honestly? Yes,” I tease. “You two would make an adorable couple.”

She rolls her eyes. “Whatever.”

I laugh and say, “I’m just glad you found someone your own age to spend time with.”

She glares at me. “It sure beats hanging around with a smelly old governess all day.”

“I know,” I reply, holding her gaze. “Imagine how I feel stuck with myself all the time. It’s a pain I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy. Besides. Luc is much more handsome than I am.”

She tries to maintain her glare, but the corners of her mouth twitch, and when I smile at her, she breaks down and giggles. When her laughter subsides, she rolls her eyes and admits, “You’re not that bad, I guess.”

“Really? I feel like I’m terrible.”

"No, you don't," she retorts. "But yeah, it was fun to see another kid. It's hard being cooped up here all the time."

“Have you told your grandmother that you’d like to go out and make friends?”

“I mean, I get to go outside a lot more in the summer. She just doesn’t like going out in the cold, and since she’s not friends with a lot of the other kids’ parents, she doesn’t really have anyone who can take me out, you know what I mean?”

That's a side effect of Elena's age that I haven't considered before. She must be much older than most of the other parents in the area. That, along with her job managing the museum, probably limits Sophie's opportunities to interact with other children. I'm very glad that Luc came over with his father last night. I certainly hope we'll see more of them.

"Well, I'll have a talk with your grandmother and see if she'll allow Luc to visit."

Sophie brightens. “Really? That would be awesome!”

I smile at her. “I can’t make any promises, but I’ll do my best. Perhaps she’ll even let me take you out to visit him.”

She gives me a dazzling smile that I’m sure won Luc’s heart the instant he saw it. “You’re not terrible at all.”

I laugh. “Thank you. You’re not so terrible either.”

The elevator opens, and Sophie and I turn to see Elena leading Inspector Moreau into the living room. Jacques nods formally to me. None of the embarrassment I see the first night is evident here. He is stern and professional.

“Good morning, Miss Wilcox. I wonder if you and I might have a word?”

I consider responding curtly and flatly, refusing to discuss the matter of the missing pocket watch, but I don't want to have this argument in front of Sophie, especially with her grandmother present. I give Sophie a smile and say, "I'll be right back."

Elena mutters something. I bristle but once more choose not to argue.

Jacques gestures for me to enter the elevator. I do, and he presses the button for the fourth floor. “I figured we could have this conversation in your room,” he explains.

“You figured wrong,” I reply, no longer concerned about Sophie hearing me.

Jacques rolls his eyes. “Very well. On the landing, then.”

The elevator door opens, and the two of us step outside. I give him a frosty look and cross my arms. He sighs and rolls his eyes again, but his professional demeanor returns a moment later. “I need you to describe to me in detail your actions two days ago.”

“Do you have reason to suspect me of a crime?”

“We’ve reviewed security footage for the evening in question,” he explains. “Thirteen people visited the display that contained the pocket watch, including you.”

A lie. I’ve never seen the pocket watch. I don’t correct him yet, though.

“We’re conducting second interviews with all thirteen people and searching their property. We’ve already searched your property, so as a courtesy, I’ve elected to start with the interview.”

“You’ve already searched me and my belongings,” I reply. “Was that not enough to satisfy you that I am not a thief?”

”As I’ve said before,” he replied. “if you have nothing to hide, you have nothing to fear.”

“I have nothing to hide, and yet here I am enduring another threat to my privacy.”

His professional demeanor cracks again with another sigh. He rubs his hand over his forehead and says, “I understand you’re angry, Miss Wilcox. No doubt you feel hurt to be thought of as a common criminal. If it helps, please understand that I don’t know you, and while it might seem obvious to others that you couldn’t possibly be a thief, I am unfortunately ill-equipped to read minds and understand character simply by looking at someone.”

His sarcasm does little to improve my mood, but I can see I won’t be rid of him easily. I shake my head and release a sigh of my own. “Fine. Let’s get this over with.”

He is silent for a few seconds, then reminds me, “Your activities the day of the theft?”

“Certainly. I completed Miss Sophie’s instruction for the day. When she finished studying, she went to her room to play video games, and I went downstairs to visit the museum.”

“Why?”

“To visit the museum,” I reply slowly.

”What specifically did you want to visit?”

“The clocks. I am quite fascinated by them, especially the grandfather clocks. I’ve been considering a purchase of a grandfather clock for my home in Boston.”

His eyes narrow. “Miss Mary, you completely bypassed the second floor. You spent less than five minutes in exhibit two, all of which were spent looking at the pocket watch. Then you proceeded to Exhibit one and spent the rest of your time downstairs talking to another suspect.”

“Not correct, Inspector. I stayed in exhibit one the entire time. I never visited exhibit two.”

“We have video evidence, Miss Wilcox. Shall I show it to you?”

I open my mouth to challenge him to do exactly that, but then I stop. I consider myself to be an excellent judge of human character, and I don’t believe that Jacques is lying. But how could he have footage of me in a room in which I’ve never set foot?

“Is it safe to say that you have no memory of entering that room?”

I’m not sure it’s safe to say anything, but I reply, “Yes.”

He nods. “I can believe that. You have a history of mental health concerns, yes?”

I flinch. My shock manifests as indignation when I say, “I fail to see how my medical history is any of your business.”

“I’ll explain. According to your records with the cantonal police department, you’ve admitted to a history of involuntary commitment to a psychological hospital.”

“That’s—”

He raises his hand, “I haven’t looked up the details of that event, but would it be accurate of me to say that one of your symptoms was a tendency to dissociate and awake to find yourself with hours of time missing and no memory of how you got where you were or what you did while you were asleep?”

I don’t reply. He’s right, of course, but there’s no way he could have guessed at exactly what the most damning symptom of my breakdown was. If I challenge him on that, I’ll be as much as admitting that he’s correct.

What I say instead after a moment of thought is, “Those records are over thirty years old. What relevance could they possibly have to a missing pocket watch?”

“Kleptomaniacs often claim that their thefts take place while they are in a dissociative state. There’s some clinical evidence to believe they may be telling the truth. Now if you stole that watch while unaware of your actions, then we can’t charge you with criminal activity. We may, however, be able to reproduce that memory and learn where you hid it, when—”

"Oh, for God's sake, Inspector. Enough of this. I've been polite, but this is ridiculous. I've not had a dissociative state anytime recently, and I didn't steal the pocket watch. If you want to talk further with me, I'd be happy to do so once you provide me with a warrant." I brush past him and head for my room. "Good day, Inspector."

He doesn’t follow me. I maintain my cool until my door is locked. Then I burst into tears and drop to the bed to muffle the sound of my crying.

I'm angry and deeply offended at Jacques's and Elena's treatment of me, but the tears I cry now are motivated by fear. Three months ago, while working for the Bellamy's, I had possibly the most powerful dissociative episode of my life when I stood for hours in the middle of a state forest in Martha's Vineyard talking to a ghostly apparition of my sister. Last summer, I had an episode where I played a very complicated jazz piano composition without being aware of my actions at all.

My mental health is still fragile. And I had a bad nightmare the night before the theft. Could it be possible that I had another dissociative episode and took the watch without realizing it?

And if so, how much worse will I get before I can no longer hide it? What further crimes will I commit while I am unaware of my own actions?

I’m very afraid to discover what the answers to those questions might be. I care very deeply about Sophia, but if I am suffering from a relapse of my dissociative episodes, then I can’t care for a child.

I cling to the fact that the watch wasn’t found in my possession. If I am the one causing trouble for this family without even realizing it, then the right thing for me to do is to leave Elena’s employ.

And if I am not thinking clearly, then how can I learn what happens to my sister?

I lift my phone and start to dial Sean’s number, but I don’t. He will be sympathetic, but I can’t bear to hear his pity right now. It will only remind me that I am pitiable.

So I only bury my head in my hands and weep.